Every day I sit down to write this blog and I search my mind for the day’s events, what happened and how I feel about it. It feels burdensome. I feel pressured to come up with “the next great thing.” But that’s not what this is really all about. It’s supposed to be liberating, right?

I mean no one else is reading this thing anyway and I’m doing it for me so where is the pressure coming from? When you have spent your whole life striving to be perfect, it’s not just a mechanism you just turn off. Hmmm … or is it?

Well if it is, then I’m desperately looking for the switch. But the switch feels either just out of reach or, if it’s at my fingertips, I’m hesitant to flip it. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m afraid to have loose edges. What if coloring outside the lines means it’s not good enough?

Ahhh … there it is. Those 3 ugly, crippling words. Not. Good. Enough. Oh, if I could do my life over and say to myself again and again and again every day from the moment I could reason and talk and walk “I am enough. I am enough. I am enough.” this blog might not need to exist.

But I suppose it’s not to late. Better late than never, right? I will commit to saying it to myself upon waking, once in the mirror and before I fall asleep.

Mind you, I don’t believe in affirmations because honestly, if they can become rote all too easily. But when you put in the work to support them, they’re probably magical.

I’m not striving for magical. Imagine that coming from a perfectionist. Ironic, huh? i just want to feel differently. Move the needle just a little bit. I guess that in itself would be plenty magical enough.